Of All the Places in the World
by Reachingthestaars
Summary: Pre-series. Neal was just doing his thing and stealing priceless art, but then Peter was there.


Neal watched the ship pull away from the _dock_ and begin to sail away. The moon was full, allowing him to see the ship even though they suspiciously kept their lights off. The only sound was the waves hitting the wood, with an occasional caw of a seagull. Neal went over the plan in his head.

There were five guys, but one was only a rookie, so he didn't really count. Mozzie had been worried that Neal was going in unarmed, but Neal assured him that he could avoid a confrontation. Based on the success of their recent cons, Mozzie admitted he was probably right, even if he still didn't like it. These guys had hit their mark a few days before Neal and Mozzie had been planning to, and even hurt people in the process. Neal frowned just thinking about it. Him and Moz could have done the job without tripping the alarm like a couple of amateurs, and no one would have gotten hurt. No one would have even known until hours later. Neal tried not to get cocky, but it was hard when he and Mozzie were getting so damn good at cons. When you go to the Met to visit your forgery, it was hard to stay grounded. Neal shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on the plan.

When the ship was a little out and the occupants were probably beginning to relax, Neal dived into the water. The shock of the cold forced the air out of his lungs and pierced his skin like tiny knives, but Neal ignored it and began to swim towards ship. The water looked like black ink in the dark night, and its temperature tried to slow Neal down and numb his senses. He focused on the ship in front of him, getting closer and closer with each stroke.

After what felt like an eternity, Neal reached the ship, reaching for the rope hanging down the side that Mozzie had said would be there. He forced his numb fingers around it and began to climb. Reaching the top, Neal peered over the railing and surveyed the deck. He recognized the floor plan that Mozzie had helped him memorize, and he climbed over once he confirmed that it was empty.

Wrapping his arms around himself against the cutting wind, Neal stealthily crept over to a vent on the right side of the ship. He blew some warm breath on his frozen fingers before grabbing a screwdriver out of his pocket. He unscrewed the vent and slid in. Due to his lithe frame, Neal fit easily in the large ventilation shaft. He pulled the grate back into place, and set off.

He crawled a few feet, before stopping to listen. Voices drifted from his right, and Neal moved silently toward them. He reached another grate, and carefully peered in. The room was dimly lit with a small lamp on a large table. Around it were a few guys playing cards, with two other men sitting off to the side in a heated discussion. Neal counted 5 in total. Perfect.

Neal crept on, glancing into every room he came across. Most were empty, but he finally found one that had a few unmarked crates in it. "Too easy," Neal muttered, grabbing his screwdriver. After some awkward maneuvering, he got the grate off and pulled it into the shaft. Neal slid out of the vent, landing deftly on his feet with a squelch from his wet shoes. He strolled over to the boxes, a slow smile spreading over his face.

The familiar feeling of adrenaline flowed through him was he took off the top and saw the vases. It was the same feeling he got every time he held an ancient piece of art. There was a rush of exhilaration knowing that this piece of ceramic was held thousands of years ago, when gifted hands had painted the scenes of birds and flowers. There was always the overriding satisfaction of knowing that he had outsmarted the system protecting said item. Neal basked in the thrill of a crime for a moment, before taking the small waterproof case from his back and loading the first vase in. He grabbed the second vase and, to his dismay, almost dropped it when a voice called out his name.

"Caffrey?"

Neal froze. He and Mozzie had been sure there were only five guys. He turned slowly, already formulating a plan to manipulate his way out of this. A smooth smile had spread over his face, but whatever he had been about to say died in his throat. He squinted further into the shadows in the corner of the room.

"Peter? What are you doing here?"

"I'm investigating a crime. What are you doing here?"

"Committing a crime."

Peter scowled. "I'm an FBI agent. I could have you arrested for that."

Neal walked over to him. "I'm not too worried about that. If this is how you 'investigate', I don't think avoiding arrest would be too hard. Anyway, I've done a pretty good job so far."

"It's too bad that I just witnessed you commit a crime, then."

Neal inspected the cuffs, pulling out his lock pick set. Peter tried to crane his neck to see what he was doing behind him. "Again, not too worried about that. How did you end up here? I'm pretty sure this wasn't your plan."

Peter sighed. "I just wanted to poke around the boat before I called it a day. Turns out that I should have brought backup. It was a rookie mistake."

"Lucky you have the masterful Neal Caffrey then!" The cuffs popped off, and Neal gave Peter a dazzling grin. "We're going to make a great team, taking down these bad guys together."

Peter got up, rubbing his wrists, and gave Neal a suspicious look. "No, I'm going to send every criminal on this ship to prison, and then I'll have a nice dinner with my wife."

Neal held up his hands. "Hey, we're on the same side here. Screw over some bad people; that's both of our goal's."

Peter scoffed. "The difference between me and you is that at the end of the day, I end up with stolen items back in museums instead of millions in my bank account."

"C'mon Peter, you're just nitpicking now. Anyway, do you really think I would put the money in my bank account? I thought you had a better opinion of me."

Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm going to find where they put my gun. You better not leave this ship."

Peter turned to walk away, but Neal grabbed his arm. "Hey, you don't know the layout of the ship by heart or have an escape route already planned. Wouldn't be easier if we just got back to shore then went back to this tough guy agent and devious criminal routine?"

Peter shook Neal off and opened his mouth to retort when the door swung open. It was a young guy, and his eyes widened in shock at the sight of them. He paused, seeming unsure of what to do. This must be the rookie.

Neal grabbed Peter roughly. "How could you let this prisoner get out of his bonds?!" he yelled at the man angrily. "He works for the damn FBI!"

The young man looked confused. "Who the hell are you?"

Neal sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't act like you can question me, newbie. Do you think the ship sails itself? I found him snooping around the engine room. If the boss finds out about this, we're all dead." Neal shoved Peter into the wall and stalked up the guy, pointing a finger close to his face. "And you'll be the first to go."

The man stumbled backwards. "I'm sorry. I'll just... well, you have it under control... I'll just... go back to my post." The man slouched away, looking as if someone kicked his puppy.

Neal turned around to see Peter giving him a smug look. "What?"

"Neal Caffrey; never thought you could intimidate someone with those oh-so-innocent blue eyes."

"Hilarious, Agent Burke. Now, that'll probably buy us about-" The boat's alarm began to blare. "-zero time. That's our cue."

Neal turned and ran out of the room. He heard Burke's footsteps following him, just like he knew he would.

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thanks for reading! I'll update soon with a longer chapter if you guys want(:


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